


Yeet

by CelestialVoid



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon - Movie, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Crack, Crack and Angst, Gally Dies, Movie Reference, Sad Ending, Unhappy Ending, canon ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 17:02:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14623182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialVoid/pseuds/CelestialVoid
Summary: An AU where everything’s the same except Minho shouts “Yeet!” whenever he throws something.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [loveyProphet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveyProphet/gifts).



Thomas looked down the small hallway, at the large metal doors that stood before them.

He felt his chest swell, a sense of hope and relief filling him. They had made it. They’d made it out of the Maze.

Thomas drew in a deep breath. “Let’s get out of here.”

“No,” came a gruff reply.

The Gladers turned around to see Gally standing a few feet away, his face lit by the sparks of the broken consoles and the dull blue haze of the emergency lights. In one hand he held a Greiver’s receiver, the broken wires hanging limp and the screen still lit up by little red lights.

“Gally?” Thomas whispered, stepping out in front of the small crowd.

“Don’t,” Teresa muttered, grabbing Thomas’ arm and pulling him back. “He’s been stung.”

Gally’s face was red and blotchy, marred bruises and beads of sweat. Tears welled in his eyes as his body trembled. He held his hand out to the side and let the receiver drop from his hold, striking the floor with a thundering boom.

Gally sniffed back tears, his lips trembling as he said, “We can’t leave.”

Thomas’ eyes dropped to the boy’s hand, noticing the gleaming light that reflected off something metallic in his hand. Sparks rained around him, breaking the darkness and revealing what Gally held in his hand. A gun.

Thomas’s stomach dropped, his throat tightening as he swallowed hard.

“We did,” Thomas pointed out, his voice soft and cautious. “Gally, we’re out… We’re free.”

“Free?” Gally repeated, his voice void of any emotion.

He dropped his head and looked away. Slowly he shook his head, tears streaking down his face.

“You think we’re free out there?” he asked, gesturing at the large metal door behind them with his free hand.

Everyone looked at one another, eyes full of worry and fear as they looked at their friends. They couldn’t give up, not when they were this close.

Chuck looked up at Thomas, wanting to say something, but Thomas’ kept his eyes fixed on Gally, his gaze steady.

“No,” Gally said with finality. “No, there is no escape from this place.”

He lifted his arm, aiming the gun at Thomas.

Thomas raised his hands defensively, shifting from one foot to the other as he fought the urge to run, to fight. Thomas drew in deep breaths, trying to steady his breathing. The tension settled over him like a solid weight.

“Gally, listen to me,” Thomas said quietly, keeping his voice calm and level. “You’re not thinking straight… You’re not. And we can help you.”

In his peripheral vision he noticed Minho tighten his grip on his spear, rotating his wrist and readying himself for whatever came next. The leather grip creaked beneath the strain of the boy’s grip.

“Just put down the gun,” Thomas pleaded quietly.

“I belong to the Maze,” Gally argued, apparently not hearing Thomas.

“Put down the gun,” Thomas repeated, voice soft.

Chuck’s eyes darted frantically between Thomas and Gally, his lips trembling and his eyes wide with fear.

Gally’s face twisted in pain, tears falling down his cheeks. “We all do.”

Thomas feels his heart stop beating.

He didn’t have time to react.

“Gally!” he shouted, but it was drowned out in a rush of noise.

He heard Chuck shout, “No!” as he shoved Thomas aside. He heard the gut-wrenching thundering bang of the gun as Gally pulled back on the trigger. And he heard Minho’s voice ringing out over everything else as she shouted “ _Yeet!_ ” and let the spear fly.

The metal pole tore through flesh and bone, impaling Gally. The boy staggered backwards, his body sagging weakly on the rod. He gasped for air, the sound breaking their hearts as the boy fell to his knees. The gun dropped from his hand and his body collapsed to the ground where he lay on his side. He stilled, his clouded eyes staring at them blankly as a stream of blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

The others watched on in shock, their lips trembling wordlessly and their lungs burning for air as hot tears blurred their vision.

The silence was broken by a weak murmur.

“Thomas?”

Thomas’ heart skipped a beat.

Chuck.


	2. All is Fair in Love and War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt bad about writing that last scene, so here's a more light-hearted one...

Two Med-jacks burst into the Map Room.

“Hey, what are you shanks doing?” Minho snapped, glaring at the boys as he stepped around the table and put himself between the map and the boys. “You know you’re not allowed here.”

“Sorry, it’s just... It’s the girl,” one of them panted.

Thomas’ heart skipped.

“Is she awake?” Thomas asked, hopeful.

The boy who had talked looked at the other and shrugged slightly. “You could say that.”

“What does that mean?” Minho asked.

They nodded towards the centre of the Glade. “See for yourself."

Thomas and Minho followed the Med-jacks out of the Map Room. As soon as they stepped out of the secluded room, the noise hit them. The glade was filled with cries of pain and raging shouts. Thomas’ stomach dropped.

He followed the Med-jacks out into the courtyard, his legs stumbling beneath him. His eyes focused on the gathering crowd at the base of a wooden tower. Thomas spotted a familiar face among the gathering crowd, the boy standing aside from everyone and doubled over.

“Chuck,” Thomas called, sprinting to the boy’s side.

The boy looked up, a grin of mischievous delight spread across his face. He was laughing.

“What’s going on?” Thomas asked.

“Girls are awesome,” was all the boy said. He pointed up at the large wooden structure around which the crowd was gathered.

Closer, Thomas noticed that someone atop the scaffolding was throwing rocks down at the crowd. The Gathering Gladers cried out in pain and anger as the rocks struck libs, tore bloody gashes in arms and legs, and thumped boys in the head. The Gladers had taken some initiative, holding whatever they could over their heads as shields: wooden pallets, metal discs, pots, pans, anything that would protect them from the rocks being pelted at them.

“Go away!” the girl shouted from atop the platform, hurling another rock down at them, and another.

“Throw one more of those things and-” Gally didn’t get to finish his threat. Another rock came flying from the platform, hitting him in the side of the head. He cried out, ducking behind the shield that another Glader held up. He held his hand to his head, specks of red blood gathering where the skin was broken and blotches of red and purple blossoming under his skin as a bruise began to form.

“Newt,” Thomas called, pushing his way through the crowd. He flinched at the thundering crashes of rocks striking wood and metal, his ears ringing with the shouts of the Gladers. He made his way over to Newt’s side and crouched beside his friend, taking shelter beneath the wooden pallet that another Glader held over their heads. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t think she likes us very much,” the boy replied.

Minho appeared beside them.

“Hey, Alby,” He called across the crowd, reaching down to pick up one of the rocks that had struck the ground nearby. “What’s that saying? ‘All’s fair in fighting and fuc-”

“Language!” Newt shouted warningly.

“‘All is fair in love and war’,” Alby replied, a hint of confusion in his voice.

“Yeah, that,” Minho said. He tightened his grip on the rock and stood up from behind the shelter. Before Thomas realised what the Runner was doing, Minho pulled his arm back and shouted, “Yeet!”

He hurled the rock.

There was a solid thump and a pained grunt as it struck the girl.

“Minho!” Newt growled, his eyes full of rage.

“What?”

“What the bloody hell were you thinking?” Newt asked. “Now we need to send some poor shank up there to see if she’s buggin’ concussed.”

“At least she stopped throwing rocks,” Minho replied.

There was a loud crack as a rock struck the wooden pallet.

The boys flinched, hoisting the shields over their heads as another barrage of rocks were hurled at them.

“Well I guess that answers that question,” Minho said snidely.

Newt opened his mouth to say something, but his voice was drowned out by the ringing clang of a rock striking a pan. But, judging by the wicked grin on Minho’s face, it was something profound.

“What do you want?” the girl shouted.

“We just want to talk,” Thomas replied, his voice ringing out over the crowd.

He stepped out from behind the shelter of a sheet of iron, looking up at the tower.

The girl threw another rock.

Gally grabbed him by the back of his shirt, pulling him behind the cover of a pallet. He looked like he was about to say something—no doubt along the line of “Don’t be stupid, Greenie”—but Thomas didn’t give him the chance.

“It’s Thomas!” he shouted over the calamity, stepping back out into the open again. “It’s Thomas!”

The girl stopped.

They waited, holding their breaths for an agonising second, just waiting for the next rock to fly over the edge of the platform. They drew in heavy breaths and Thomas looked around, taking in the sight of the Gladers. Many of them huddled in fear, their knuckles white and their hands trembling as they held onto their shields. Many of them were nursing bleeding wounds, bashes bleeding as stains of red seeped into the fabric of their clothes.

The tension was palpable as they waited in silence.

Finally, the girl peered over the edge of the platform. The curtain of her dark hair fell around her face, another rick clutched in her hand threateningly.

Thomas waved at her.

“I’m going to come up, okay?” he called up to her, trying to keep his voice calm and level.

The girl nodded and sat back, disappearing back over the edge of the platform.

Gally took a step towards tower but Thomas grabbed his shoulder, stopping him.

“Just me,” Thomas said quietly.

Gally’s face twisted into a fierce scowl, but the Glader said nothing.

Thomas drew in a deep breath and made his way over to the ramp.

“I’m coming up,” he called, grabbing a hold of one of the wooden poles as he climbed up the uneven, rickety wooden ramp. He held onto the scaffolding, using it to pull himself up towards the platform. The ramp coiled back around to a trap door that led up to the platform.

He glanced down at the Gladers one last time.

Newt and Alby stood among the crowd, watching him with worried expressions as they instructed Med-jacks to care for the wounded Gladers and others to go back to work, but no one moved. Gally still stood beside the boy holding a sheet of iron, eyeing Thomas suspiciously. Minho and Chuck stood towards the back of the crowd, both grinning. The younger boy was chuckling and Minho’s smirk grew wider as he met Thomas’ gaze.

Thomas rolled his eyes.

He drew in a deep breath and pushing the trap door up.

 

**Author's Note:**

> celestialvoid-fanfiction.tumblr.com


End file.
